Strumming my pain with his fingers | Singing my life with his words | Killing me softly with his songKilling me softly with his song | Telling my whole life with his words | Killing me softly with his songI heard he sang a good song | I heard he had a style | And so I came to see him | To listen for a whileAnd there he was, this young boy | A stranger to my eyes | Strumming my pain with his fingersSinging my life with his words | Killing me softly with his song | Killing me softly with his songTelling my whole life with his words | Killing me softly with his song | I felt I flushed with feverEmbarrassed by the crowd | I felt he found my letters | And read each one out loudI prayed that he would finish | But he just kept right on | Strumming my pain with his fingersSinging my life with his words | Killing me softly with his song | Killing me softly with his songTelling my whole life with his words | Killing me softly with his song | He sang as if he knew meIn all my dark despair | And then he looked right through me | As if I wasn‘t thereAnd he just kept on singing | Singing clear and strong | Strumming my pain with his fingersSinging my life with his words | Killing me softly with his song | Killing me softly with his songTelling my whole life with his words | Killing me softly with his song